


Between Guilt and Guillotine

by Acrimonium



Category: Addams Family - All Media Types
Genre: Addams Family musical - Freeform, F/M, Family Fluff, Gen, Other, Wedding Planning
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-04-26
Updated: 2015-04-26
Packaged: 2018-03-25 21:19:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,715
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3825415
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Acrimonium/pseuds/Acrimonium
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Addams Family Musical based: What happened between the "Move Towards the Darkness" and the touring version curtain call's wedding. </p><p>One short month of chaos separate Wednesday from an Addams to a Beineke. And in between then is a whole lot of Addams. Wednesday and Lucas prepare for their wedding. Grandmama looks for a dress, Pugsley works on the decorations, Gomez and Morticia try to get to know their new in-laws, and Fester is obsessed with a moon rock...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Between Guilt and Guillotine

**Author's Note:**

> This story is primarily based on the touring version of the musical, with some parts from the Broadway version and other canon. Enjoy!

**Chapter 1 - Welcome the Unknown**

From the outside, it was impossible to tell the changes that had happened in the Addams house last night. The cobwebs were as thick as ever, the poison ivy undisturbed, the bats in the belfry chipper and active.

Inside, things were a little different than usual. A little more... normal. That was thanks to the presence of one Lucas Beineke. Although his parents had retreated to the hotel, presumably to recoup and recover, Lucas was back again today to get a grand tour of the house. In the moonlight, as it was meant to be seen.

While Wednesday Addams showed her finance the twists and turns of the old mansion, her brother was similarly occupied in the greenhouse. Grandmama had tasked him with gathering the plants necessary to brew another bottle of acrimonium. Why she needed such a potent and damaging potion she wouldn't say. Like many things with Grandmama, it was futile to ask.

And Lurch, of course, was already polishing the silverware for the upcoming nuptials. He was always the romantic.

The phone had been ringing off the hook all day, courtesy of Alice Beineke who couldn't wait to start planning with Wednesday. Wednesday, on the other hand, didn't see why they couldn't get married that very night and was avoiding her like a bushel of bunnies.

It was all a bit much for Gomez Addams. The noise and change and the presence of a strange, a decidedly normal stranger, were wearing him thin. After the fifth or so phone call, he retreated into the graveyard.

He was sitting on the swing, smoking a cigar, when he saw a tall, dark, and slim figure drift through the French doors. The very site of her brought a smile to his face despite how tired he still felt.

" _Cara mia_ ," he murmured as she came behind him, smoothing his dark hair and kissing the top of his head.

She returned his smile, resting her head on top of his. " _Mon cher_."

"Tish, that's..."

"Don't get up, darling; those beautiful dark circles of yours let me know you didn't sleep much last night."

"It was impossible to sleep while at odds with you,  _querida_."

"I'm so glad that's all behind us now, my love." She continued stroking his hair, knowing he was not going to enjoy the next part of the conversation. "Wednesday finally spoke to Mrs. Beineke. Though I supposed we'd best get used to calling them Alice and Mal if they're to be our in-laws. They've set a wedding date, a month from now. On the next full moon."

"A month!" Gomez explained, turning his head in surprise. "So soon! What's the big rush?"

"Love, I suppose. I seem to remember we were married within twenty-four hours of meeting each other. We missed dinner with ours parents to do it, no less."

"But that was different," he protested. "That was..."

"That was us?"

He exhaled, attempting to smile. "Yes... That was us. I just worry for Wednesday. Worried that she's more in love with being in love than with the boy."

Morticia smiled, massaging her husband's shoulders, being sure to dig into his skin with her nails just the way he liked it. "Don't worry, Gomez. If she tires of him, I'm sure Wednesday will see that he ends up in the moat where he'll be taken care of."

"Tish, what an awful thing to say! He's our daughter's fiancé! And I'm not even sure if the alligators can eat Ohioans. All that wheat, what if they're gluten intolerant?"

She sighed, rolling her eyes. "I still can't say I'm thrilled over the union, but he makes Wednesday happy, and that's what's important. I just hope she knows what she's getting into. Not just with him but with his parents."

"They did seem a lot more mellow leaving here than arriving."

"Yes, darling, but mellow does not equal tolerable. The woman may be a little less repressed, but she still cares far too much about fabric swatches and cake samples for my liking. What's wrong with black, grey and white and a lovely spider web cake? It's hardly a wedding without spider cake."

Gomez took his wife's hand, kissing it in hopes of soothing her. "With any luck, she'll insist on having it at some country club and we can simply write them a cheque and show up."

With the hereditary sense of timing in the Addams family tree, Wednesday burst through the double doors. "We are  _not_ getting married in some asinine country club!"

Lucas, at her heels, had the expression of one being torn between two charging horses. "Aw, Wednesday, you haven't even seen the pictures! The Champion Hills Club isn't all bad. I mean, the trim is black..."

"I am not going to Ohio. I love you, Lucas, but asking that is too much of anyone." The girl spun on her heel, gesturing around. "This is my home, this is where I belong. This is where my parents were married; this is where I want to be married."

Lucas looked around. "You want to get married in a graveyard."

"No, I  _will_ get married in a graveyard. Whether or not you do, too, is the question."

The boy ran a hand through his hair, looking his bethroed in the eye. "... My mom is going to  _freak_."

"Is that a yes?"

"Yes, that's a yes. But please, can we wait long enough to send out invitations at least? Six months?"

The girl pursed her lips, considering. "One month. That should be long enough, even with the deplorable state of the United States Postal Service."

"One month?! To find a dress, a cake, a minister..."

"Take it or leave it, Mister."

"God, you drive me crazy, Wednesday." Lucas snatched her by the arms, kissing her passionately. Unlike his previous assertions, she did not seem opposed to this one.

Watching them without the young couples' notice, Mortica and Gomez both sighed.

"See, mon cher?" Moriticia smiled, gesturing towards them. "That was us twenty-five years ago. Although I seem to remember you had be up against Aunt Grenadine's tomb instead of the wall. "

"And at the time I was engaged to your sister, I recall," the Castilian agreed with a sigh of nostalgia. "Thus necessitating our quick marriage. One thing I will say about young Lucas, he's a better match for Wednesday than I was for Ophelia."

"I think my sister running away with Cousin Itt was more than a wrench in those works without our rushed nuptials, darling. To which we had Fester to thank."

"Love always was his forte." Gomez looked upwards to where the moon was barely visible behind a thick grey cloud. "I just hope it isn't his complete undoing..."

Morticia hugged him around the neck, kissing his head tenderly. "I'm sure he's fine up there, mon cher."

"So am I, I just hope he included a plan on getting down..."

"Mother! Father!" Wednesday stalked towards them, dragging the lovelorn Lucas behind her like she used to drag her walking spider toy. "I've decided, we're getting married in the family graveyard in one month's time."

Gomez could not help but chuckle. "So we heard, Paloma. The tombs are for your service. We'll start sending out the invitations tomorrow. At least to our side. No expense will be spared for our only girl's bleak and tragic day."

She threw her arms around her father, almost knocking him off the swing. "Thanks so much, Father... This means the world to me."

He returned the hug, withholding the tears he felt stinging at his eyes. "I know, my little Attila. I know."

Wednesday straightened, brushing at her newly shortened hair. She caught sight of the moon and her terse smile fell. "Father... Do you think Uncle Fester will be back in time for the wedding? Is there any way to get an initiation to him up there?"

Father exchanged a look with mother before answering. "Maybe your brother could? I'm afraid I don't know nearly enough about rockets, Paloma. But... I'm sure he'll be back in time if he can. He wouldn't want to miss your big day."

The girl did not look relieved at this but she gave a stoic nod, yanking Lucas off again. "Come on, Lucas. We need to decide on a colour scheme. I'm thinking Grave Moss and Tarnished Silver. And we'll need to ask Grandmama about the menu. Is anyone in your family allergic to squid?"

Gomez sighed as he watched them go, his eyes drifting back up to the moon.

Morticia, knowing his gloom, returned to her position with her arms hugged around him and her head resting on top of his, holding him close. "Oh, my poor Gomez... You miss your brother terribly already."

"I can't help it, Tish. I know he left for love and I understand that and I'm thrilled for him. The fun he must be having right now! But..."

"But he is your only brother, and you miss him."

He nodded, a morose smile on his face. "Happy... and sad..."

This thought that ought to have been punctuated with profound silence was instead followed by a soft wail that began to grow louder and louder. Finally the scream was deafening. It softened the blow for the huge explosion in the dead bed of roses a moment later, the fireball rising into the air and scotching several of the marble grave markers.

From the dregs of the explosion stumbled a familiar figure, brown coat aflame and his white skin marred with soot, coughing up ashes and rose leaves.

"Fester, brother!" exclaimed Gomez, leaping from the swing and running over to the thorn bush. "Are you alright?"

The man sprang up from the bush, cut and scraped and on fire but smiling. Although Fester generally was smiling whenever he was on fire."Oh, I'm fine, though I can't say that's not my highest fall! What I'm worried about is this!"

From inside his shirt Fester pulled a moon rock, jagged and bigger than a football. Turning it over in his hands with the utmost of care, inspecting it closely, he finally gave a firm nod.

"Good, no cracks in it! Figured it would survive a crash landing, it's a rock after all, but had to be sure!"

"You didn't stay very long," noted Mortica as she glided over, casting a cursory glance at the rock as she patted the flames off of his robes.

"Well, for one thing I overestimated how long I could hold my breath! Started getting a little light-headed around eighteen hours in. Have to work on that. But..." Fester sighed and looked up at the gleaming moon in the sky that was just beginning to wane. "We have no problems with a long distance relationship. And besides..." His smile widened as he hefted the rock in his arms. "I've got something to remember her by! I'd better get this puppy inside before the night air gets to it."

With that he scurried off, rock clutched to his chest, smoke trailing behind him.

Gomez gave a sigh of contentment. "It's good to know that no matter how much change, some things will always stay the same."

In the greenhouse, Pugsley's fingers were starting to go numb. Grandmama wouldn't tell him what the main ingredient in acrimonium was, but he was starting to suspect it wasn't meant to come in contact with human skin. He wondered if the tips of his fingers might fall off... The colour definitely looked promising.

This was supposed to be a punishment, but privately Pugsley was having the most fun he'd had with his (probable) grandmother in a long time. Almost as good as the possibility of permanent nerve damage, as they worked Grandmama was regaling him with stories about her brief career as an art dealer in Japan.

"Never let alone tell you the West invented depravity, kid," she said as she hacked at a gnarled and ancient looking bark with her rusty machete. "I went to this place in Kobe, and dear gods above! They blindfolded us and drove us all around town before they led us into a passageway. Once we were there, to prove we weren't Johnny Law we had to..."

The old woman paused with her chopping, looking over her shoulder. "... Sweetie, how old are you again?"

"I'm fourteen, Grandma."

"Er, well then... Let's just say that I'd never considered myself much of a church gal, but I'd woke up that morning fresher than the Virgin Mary compared to how I went to sleep that night. And when we were done and we wiped the pomegranate juice off ourselves, they let us put our clothes back on and led us into the strangest library on the face of this green earth. You know the Dewey Decimal system? They had one of those but only for what the classier folks call erotic artisanal products. And it went a lot high than nine hundred."

"Erotic artisanal products...?"

This thought was interrupted by a familiar figure in tattered and smoking clothes bustling into the greenhouse, a strange rock in one arm. "Evening, Grandmama, hey Pugs. Do you know if those heat lamps Morticia uses for her funeral orchids are in here?"

"Uncle Fester, you're back!" Pugsley was glad to see him. Who else would buy blasting powder for him until he was eighteen?

Grandmama gave him a knowing smile. "Hey there, Sparky. Conjugal visit get cut short?"

"Twenty-four hours is cutting it short?"

"Was in my day. Barely enough time to get started. Romance is dead these days. And not in the sexy fresh corpse way, in the dusty got-staked last century way."

"What's with the rock, Uncle Fester?" questioned his nephew, peering at the artifact. "Wow, is that a moon rock?"

"Sure is! Genuine! That's actually why I need the heat lamps..."

"You brought a piece of your girlfriend home? Now that brings me back to my salad days..."

Wednesday stalked into the glass walled room, Lucas running to keep up behind her. "Grandmama, will you bake me a wedding cake?"

The old woman buried her machete in the garden table, gathering up the vines she'd hacked away. "Right now?"

"No, in a month. When I get married."

"That's definitely doable, sweetie. Blood velvet's my best, but I'm not too shabby with a spider and vanilla either."

"Hmm... One for each layer?"

"That's my granddaughter, always thinking big! One blood velvet and spider vanilla wedding cake coming up."

"Whoa, whoa, hold the phone," protested Fester, frowning. "One month?! What's the hurry, Wednesday?" His frown deepened a little. "There's no...  _hurry_ , right?"

"No! God, no!" Wednesday looked towards Lucas and smiled. "We're in love. We know that for sure now. Why wait?"

"It just... It seems a little rash, don't you think?"

"Uncle Fester, you went to the moon yesterday because you were in love with it. And that isn't more rash than this?"

The bald man sighed, a smile creeping onto his face. "You have a point... I'm happy for you, Wednesday. I really am. It's gonna be a great wedding."

The girl hugged him, giving him a quick kiss on the cheek which made him blush an odd shade of grey. "Thank you, Uncle Fester. I'm glad you'll be here for it." She gave a slight jump as the rough rock in his arms tore her skin. "... Is that a moon rock?"

Lucas peered from behind her. "... You brought a piece of your girlfriend home with you?"

"Look, enough about the rock! We've got a wedding to whip together in a month! There's not much time! Everyone... Go do things! I've got some heat lamps to find." With that he hurried off, grey blush spreading up past his ears.

Grandmama took Wednesday's arm, leading her off. "Forehead's right, there's so much to do! First and foremost, to find you a dress! Thankfully there were a lot of Addams brides before you, so you've got quite the selection. I'm thinking something tastefully low cut but still classy..."

Still holding the basket full of leaves, Pugsley looked up to Lucas. "Man, you have no idea what you're getting into."

Lucas could only sigh. "My parents are going to freak. ... Totally worth it."


End file.
